Getting Help
by invokethemuse
Summary: Scorpius is a good-looking, young boy. He has a dark secret. He self-harms, and he needs help. Will he suffer in silence, or can he muster the courage to get the help he needs?


Thirteen year-old Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy didn't like to share his personal feelings. No Malfoy did, for that matter. Malfoys were strong. They were made of steel. That's what his father seemed to think, anyway. Scorpius knew his mother was sick. Healer Padma had practically been living with them at Malfoy Manor since he was six. How his dad thought he could keep a secret that big from his only son, he had no idea, but it didn't make things much easier for him. The knives did, though. The knives understood. They didn't tell Scorpius how to feel or act. With them, he could control his pain.

It was the Summer before his third year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He didn't love school, but he didn't hate it, either. He had a friend in one Albus Severus Potter. He shuddered at the thought of Albus. Albus was his best friend.

" _You're pathetic,"_ said the voice inside his head. _"Albus Potter deserves better than you! The rumours about you being Voldemort's son might as well be true. At least, then, you'd be a little less pathetic than Dad. You will never make a worthy Malfoy!"_

He dragged the cool, metal edge of the kitchen knife against his hip. At first, nothing happened. It was just a white scratch and it barely made an imprint. He dragged it across again, pressing in harder until a tiny droplet of blood appeared. He clutched the handle of the knife and pulled, making a thin, red line. That was the momentum he needed. One, two, three, four, five more cuts. He paused, slightly out of breath. As Scorpius shut his eyes, he focused on the sensation in the side of his body. He didn't mind the stinging. The bleeding on the outside just distracted his mind from the fact that he was broken beyond repair on the inside.

When he opened his eyes, the blood was still there.

" _You ugly git!"_ exclaimed the voice. _"No one cares about you. You're completely alone. Everyone hates you. You are the reason Mum is dying."_

Not a day went by that Scorpius didn't feel responsible for his mother's condition. On her good days, you couldn't even tell there was anything wrong with her. She appeared a little thin, and had bags under her eyes when she didn't have the energy to take her concealer potions. Then, there were the days when she looked like she had walked in front of one of those big, red muggle buses with three stories.

Scorpius rolled up his left sleeve. It was covered in scars from previous nights. He had long since run out of room on his arms, which was when he proceeded to his thighs, and then his calves. Now it was his sides, but he missed being able to drag the cold, shiny blade against his bleeding wrist. There was something different about cutting there. It gave him a different kind of gratification to be able to slit his wrists, not so deep that he cut a vein, but just enough to leave permanent scars.

The only other person who knew about his secret wasn't a person at all. A few weeks ago, when Draco took Astoria in to St. Mungo's for some testing the healers couldn't administer at home, Bazzle, the house elf who had been Astoria's caregiver as a child happened to see Scorpius sneaking out of the kitchen with something long wrapped in a napkin. Thinking it was a freshly baked almond biscotti that the other house elves were saving until his parents returned, Bazzle cautiously followed Scorpius up the stairs, hoping to catch him in the act. As he stood with his disproportionately large ear against the door, he heard a sob coming from the other side. Worried that something might be wrong with Young Master Scorpius, he apparated into the room and yelped at what he saw.

At first, Scorpius was shocked, but then he was furious. He yelled at the elf, and threatened to strip him of his dignity as a house elf by giving him clothes if he said a word to either Draco or Astoria. A terrified and extremely taken aback Bazzle nodded and hurried off to iron his toes. Perhaps humans also punished themselves when they made mistakes, he had decided, though he only hoped it was that and did not truly believe it. He had never heard of such a thing in serving three generations of Greengrasses. He would have to ask Fizzle, who had been Daphne's caregiver, the next time he had an errand to run at Greengrass Manor.

Staring at the healing cuts on his forearms, Scorpius suddenly felt the urge to do it again. With the knife, he pressed into the skin, opening up an old scar enough to allow blood to seep out. It was instant relief.

" _You like that, don't you? This is what you deserve, scum!"_

He heard the sound of the large double doors opening and shutting downstairs, indicating his parents had returned. Based on their method of transport, he was always able to tell how his mother was doing. Since they were coming through the front doors, it was a good sign. It meant Astoria wasn't feeling too nauseous to apparate. Quickly, he scrambled to hide the knife away in his pillowcase and pulled his robes over the muggle "T-shirt-and-shorts" he had been wearing, clothes Albus had sent him after Scorpius had seen his and asked what they were. There was a knock at the door.

"Come in!" he called. The door swung open, and Astoria stepped in. She was wearing her usual business-like skirt and blouse with one of the cloaks his Grandmother Narcissa had left behind when his grandparents moved away. They had made haste in leaving, since they couldn't stand to live with their disappointment of a daughter-in-law.

" _A disappointing mother who gave birth to an even more disappointing child."_

Scorpius knew it wasn't his fault his grandparents left. It wasn't even about Astoria, really, and Draco and them had explained that to the two Malfoys who had Greengrass blood on their last day at the manor. After the war, they had begun to realize the years they lost together due to all their attentions being focused on the Dark Lord. They had waited long enough, and now that Draco had his own family and Scorpius was growing up, it was time for them to start their lives.

" _Exactly,"_ chimed the voice. _"The war ended long ago. They couldn't start their lives because of you!"_

Astoria coughed, and Scorpius's neck snapped up. Upon instinct, he jumped to his feet and went over to pat her back, but she waved her hand. "I'm alright, love. It's this room. How long since the house elves dusted in here?" She smiled weakly and ran her fingers through his white-blonde hair. "Oh my, I was only gone for a few hours and you've already grown more handsome!"

He blushed. "I can, er, I don't know, open up the window?"

She shook her head and let out a stifled cough. "I'll be out of your hair soon, there's no need," she said, as she continued to stroke his hair. "Literally," she added with a chuckle. "I came to tell you that there's a letter here for you from Albus. Ginny wrote me as well, and I'm fine if you want to meet him. The Potters invited you to dinner after, but your father as usual wants us all eating together. If you want to, though, you can go ahead and I can pull some strings." She held out a bludger-sized package tied with a piece of twine.

Scorpius shook his head. "I think I'd rather eat here tonight, but thanks Mum!" He accepted the letter and waited until she was gone. The truth was that he actually really wanted to have dinner with Albus and his family, but he knew why it was so important to his father that they all ate together as a family. Each day, Astoria grew weaker, and every moment spent with her was precious. Before the voice in his head could speak up with another hurtful remark, he tore the brown paper to reveal a letter and an old hat.

 _Hiya Scorpius!_

 _Last week, my family visited this beach in Malaga, which is a coastal city in Spain. It's pretty big with muggle tourists, but the part we went to is private and the guy who owns it is some old bigshot quidditch player Dad knows from who knows what. His name was, like, Crumb, or something. I don't know. Dad said something about Beauxbatons and Durmstrang and a tournament._

 _Anyway, the owner lives in Bulgaria and he lets our family use it whenever we want. Mum suggested you could meet me there and we could catch the sunset and talk about stuff since we haven't seen each other after school ended. I think she's just trying to get rid of me because James and Lily both have friends staying over and she wants me out of her hair. It's not fair! Lily doesn't even start her first year at Hogwarts for another month, and she already has friends who come spend holidays with us!_

 _Albus Potter (The friend who stayed for your sweets on the first train ride to Hogwarts!)_

 _P.S: The hat is a portkey; in case you didn't figure it out already. It'll sense when you're ready to go and activate to bring you to the beach._

 _: Bring sweets!_

The voice read that as a cue. _"You're so useless you mistook a portkey that'll get you to another country for a smelly old hat!"_

Scorpius's eyes darted to his pillowcase. It was black with silver and green lace around the edges, which served well for concealing the blood stains the knife was sure to have caused in the time that had gone by since he hid it. He would have grabbed it and started cutting again, but he saw the bag of sweets on the bedside table first. He snatched the bag in his hand and took hold of the hat.

The world spun out of focus. Scorpius landed face down in wet sand. He groaned as he sat up. The sun was beating down on the shore, and though he didn't see anyone else, he felt awkward and out of place in his dark, full-sleeved robes.

" _That's because you're an outcast!"_

The voice was really becoming annoying. At this rate, Scorpius was considering giving it a name. That would be ridiculous, considering the voice was just a more rational side of himself. Then, he noticed that his sleeve had rolled back when he landed and sand had gotten into his cut. It hurt like crazy.

"Merlin, you must be boiling! Who wears winter robes to the beach?"

Albus was bounding towards him. "Sorry if I kept you waiting!" he panted. "Mum caught me trying to take my wand with me and made me switch it out for a training one. She said that just because the Wizard's European Union allows underage magic unlike Britain, it's no reason for me to do it." Scorpius looked up to see the short, pudgy stick that Albus was twirling around between his index finger and thumb. "It's not too bad. This wand is designed to do most spells except unforgivable ones, and if you do try to cast one of those it'll do it, just on a smaller scale so you don't cause any real damage. Anyway," continued Albus, "What's up with your arm? Did you get portkey-splinched?"

Scorpius heaved himself off the ground, this time feeling the pain in his hips. "No, nothing, just an itch but it's gone now." He beamed nervously. "I, er, got cut by something." It wasn't a lie.

"Oh," said Albus, "I've got just the thing for that." He dug into the pockets of his shorts, pulling out some miscellaneous pieces of parchment, a chocolate frog card, and a bottle of dittany.

Scorpius's face fell. All of his scars meant something to him. If Albus applied the dittany, then they would heal and go away, and he couldn't allow that. "No, it's fine. I was exaggerating about the cut. It's just a scratch, not even bleeding, see?" Scorpius held up his right arm and prayed the sand was plenty and the scars were faded enough not to raise questions. It worked, but Albus didn't buy it entirely.

"I saw you holding the other- "

"I have sweets!"

"No, don't change the subject. Show me your arm or I'll look myself!"

Seeing no choice, Scorpius gave in. Albus used the training wand to pull back his sleeve. He held it a short distance from Scorpius's sand-covered forearm. "Aguamenti!" A stream of water gushed out from the tip of the wand like a tap and washed the sand off. He gasped at the severity of the gashes, and mentally kicked himself for it.

Scorpius's entire body shook uncontrollably. "I'm s- s- sorry! I- I'll go home, I promise! I- I'll t- t- tell Dad I w- want to b- b- be tutored at h- h- home so you never have to s- s- see me again!" He wanted to cry, but the tears just wouldn't fall, like they were stuck in his tear glands.

Albus placed a hand on his shoulder. "Look at me. Scorpius, look at me!" He put his other hand on Scorpius's cheek and guided the other boy's face towards him. "I want you to listen to every word I say, and don't say anything. Have you heard of Collin Creevey? – Just nod your head for yes – He was a muggleborn wizard in my mum's year at Hogwarts. He was a bit obsessed with my dad, I think, he left a bunch of his most prized possessions to him after he died in the final battle. One of these things was a diary. I read it, and he talked about going through the same thing you are. You're not alone and it's not your fault, okay? I'm going to get you some of the pages where he talked about strategies he used to get through it, and I'll give you some extra research I did when I was trying to understand what the stuff he said meant. Collin got better, so you can too. In the end, his last entry was about how he overcame all this and was ready to stand up and fight for what he believed in. He said he was done cowering and internalizing his feelings every time he got picked on."

Scorpius felt a knot tighten in his stomach. If a muggleborn in Ginny Potter's year was picked on at Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy's gang was probably the guilty party. As if reading his thoughts, Albus added, "He mentioned names in his diary. Your dad never harmed him. Sh, it's okay!" Albus rubbed his shoulder up and down. He was lying, but he was only allowing himself to do so in order to protect Scorpius's fragile state of mind. From what he'd read, there was no way of guessing how a self-harmer would react to upsetting information. According to Collin's accounts, the scary part was that one could seem fine and then hours later lash out on themselves.

"What was the stuff?" asked Scorpius.

"What stuff?" Albus allowed him to lean against him and put his arm, settling comfortably on the sand.

Scorpius shifted a little. "You said that you did extra research to find out what the stuff he said meant. What stuff were you talking about?"

"Oh, er, I guess just the behavior in general. Hurting oneself, I mean." There went another lie. The real reason he had researched into it was because Albus was thinking about using it as an outlet of his own. In the end, however, he decided it was a weak response and that he needed to "man up", to put it into muggle terms, but Scorpius didn't need to hear that.

"Are you going to make me tell my parents?" Scorpius's voice tremored a little, but he didn't stammer.

Albus closed his eyes for a minute without saying anything. He was only thirteen. He didn't want to carry this burden all by himself, but at least from reading Collin's diary, he knew that breaking Scorpius's trust wasn't going to do good for their friendship. "I'm not going to tell them," he finally decided. "But, don't get me wrong. I do think that you should tell them sooner than later. You'll have a much easier time if they find out from you. That way you can do it on your own terms, and it'll be you asking them for help instead of them forcing it on you. If they discover it out of the blue, they might panic and do things they don't necessarily want to do. Or, make you do things you don't want to do, because they'll want to try and do what's best for you. Hey, I'm not saying you have to do it today, or tomorrow, or even next week. You need to sit down and have a conversation with them sometime before we go back to school. I promise they'll be on your side." Of course, Albus wasn't as confident or certain as he sounded, but for someone who had only read a diary and looked up a couple of paragraphs at the library, he was surprised that he found those words to say at all.

Even though the quality of the monologue didn't give him much room to choose otherwise, he agreed and appreciated the sentiment. So far, the voice hadn't interrupted his time with Albus.

Meanwhile, Bazzle was not enjoying his routine visit to the Greengrass estate as he usually did. He liked seeing Daphne, and Fizzle and the other elves, too. Greengrass Manor was smaller than Malfoy Manor, but more lively and the grounds were definitely more beautiful. Flowers of all varieties grew everywhere. There were various sculptures and a central fountain which changed colour to match the mood of the person nearest to it.

Daphne and her husband, Azure Brown, Lavender's elder brother, lived there with a son, Cerulean, and a daughter, Amaryllis. They were very kind to elves, and once Bazzle delivered the monthly message from the Malfoy family, he was allowed to mingle with the other house elves in the kitchen while he awaited their response. The ministry closely monitored and censored mail correspondence between ex-Death Eaters and other pureblood families. The idea was to prevent another supremacy movement, although in practice, it only added to the tensions between the two sides of the war. Most people had their house elves personally deliver letters for this reason.

Waiting in the kitchen, Bazzle took the opportunity to ask Fizzle about what he had seen. He figured he would punish himself for it later, so long as it meant he had the assurance that his youngest master was safe. Unfortunately for him, Fizzle did not ease his worry. She picked up the pan of oil she was heating on the stove and started hitting herself with it, leaving burn marks on top of her head. Moments later, she instructed him to leave immediately after collecting Daphne's response letter, saying that Young Master Scorpius was "very sick" and "needed help with his muggle ailment," and that "Bazzle shouldn't keep these things from Master and Mistress Malfoy."

And there he was, standing atop the canopy on Draco and Astoria's double king-sized bed, delivering the very bad news. All of the colour drained from Draco's face. Astoria sobbed into his shoulder. Neither of them noticed when Bazzle snapped his finger and went into the kitchen to go punish himself for disobeying his master.

"Oh Draco," Astoria wept, clinging to him for dear life, "My baby boy, my one and only! This is all my fault; I never should have had children. It's got to be my family's curse!"

Draco had lost the ability to think rationally once Bazzle told him that "Young Master Scorpius punishes himself with knives." He hugged his wife securely. "Darling, my love, this is not our fault. Bazzle said it's a muggle ailment. Let's- let's- Padma's going to be back any moment now. We'll talk to her. She's helped us so much, and she loves Scorpius. She'll tell us what's going on!"

Astoria looked up at her husband. "Healer Padma?" she whispered. Draco nodded. "B- But, she's a Patil! They're purebloods! She- she won't- she doesn't… oh my baby!" She broke down completely. Draco rested his head on hers, and allowed a single tear to roll down his face. He didn't bother to wipe it away when Padma walked into the room.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. The door was open…" she began, and was cut off by Draco.

"No, Padma. We're glad you came. You're the only one of us who has a chance at being helpful. Come, sit down." He motioned to the sofa beside the bed. She sat down, and he went on. "This isn't about Astoria. It's about Scorpius." Astoria didn't budge from Draco's chest. She was crying even harder. "Scorpius has been- well, he's not well, and it's not an ordinary sort of illness. You see, Bazzle just informed us that he's… he's _mutilating_ himself." _On purpose,_ he wanted to add, though he didn't.

Padma's eyebrows furrowed. A pained look washed over her face. "Draco, I'm very sorry to bring this up, and before I do, I need you to tell me you understand. I wouldn't open up any old wounds unless absolutely necessary."

Draco flinched at the mention of wounds. Astoria had sat up, remaining in Draco's arms but facing Padma and listening intently. "We do, Padma, go on, please," she prompted.

Padma sighed and took a deep breath. "The both of you may not remember, and if you do, I'm sorry to say the memories won't be good, but there was a student a year younger than Draco and me and a year older than you, Astoria. He was muggleborn, Collin Creevey was his name?"

Astoria shook her head, while Draco nodded. "Not a day goes by that I don't feel remorse for the things I did at Hogwarts. I'd like to think I've done a better job raising my son, but…"

"I know, Draco." Padma smoothed out her skirt. "It's not about that, but Collin- he was the same as Scorpius. He would hurt himself, on purpose. When I trained under Madam Pomfrey, back when I wanted to work with my sister at the infirmary at Hogwarts, she told me that muggles often use this as a coping mechanism. It's all about pain and being in control. When some people hurt on the inside, they feel like the whole world is pitted against them. They can end up in a very dark place, and then they look for an outlet. If they can't find one, many of them turn to this. There are records of people claiming to be in a position of emotional numbness, who injure themselves because the want to force themselves to feel something. Others do it because they are hurting on the inside, and the pain on the outside serves as a distraction and makes them forget that. The list goes on. No two cases are alike."

"What's the cure? I'll pay anything. I'll even go to a muggle hospital. This is my son we're talking about, Merlin, I'll go to Antarctica and back!" He started to get out of bed, but Padma gestured to Astoria to pull him back down.

"From you, he needs love and understanding. He must be finding it very difficult to trust anybody, seeing as he's turned to this as opposed to sharing anything. There is a treatment in the form of counselling, which is what muggles use for therapy. They have specialized professional healers called psychologists who handle these kinds cases."

"Where do I find one of these?" Draco's pleading eyes met Padma's eyes.

"He can have his sessions with me," said Padma, earning a sigh of relief from both parents. "Scorpius is thirteen, right? With muggles, they have a special law that says that everything which a person over the age of thirteen discusses during counselling sessions is kept strictly confidential, unless they pose a fatal threat to themselves or others. Since counselling is different in the wizarding world, healers who do that sort of thing take an unbreakable vow upon completion of their training, so in the beginning, you may not see or hear much difference until he feels safe to open up and talk to you about it."

Scorpius appeared under the doorframe. Astoria and Draco both stood, looking to Padma with panicked expressions, wondering what they were supposed to say, but Scorpius went first. "I came to tell you that I need your help with something. And Healer Padma, too." Padma smiled, comfortingly. His mother did the same, while his father kept his composed Malfoy mask.

"I… I- I- I… I self-harm." Hot, heavy were streaming down his face. Astoria took his hand in hers and brought him close to her, wrapping him in a tight hug. "I promise we will help you, honey. I know you must be scared, but you've come to us now. We'll help you get better." Draco joined in on the hug. "Scorpius, we love you so, very much."


End file.
